Scream for me
by lassenri
Summary: Bilbo didn't live to see the Battle. Thorin killed him first and the hobbit is not happy about that. Everyone lives but Bilbo. Gore. Character death.
1. Chapter 1

**I Don't own the hobbit**

_Bilbo ran and ran. He knew he should face the consequences of his actions but he was so scared. He never managed to find the right time to give away the arkenstone himself so he resorted to calling for Gandalf with one of the ravens and throwing the stone down to him on his arrival, telling him precisely what he wanted done with it to the relief and agreement of Gandalf. Bilbo, however, was just a little to slow in finishing up and was caught by a livid Thorin. Gandalf was just to far away to call for so Bilbo ran. He was fast but so was Thorin plus Thorin knew Erebors tunnels. Down stairs and through doors, hiding behind statues and arches before running the other way. Bilbo ran down a passage that he remembered lead to an unused staircase. The hobbit turned to run upwards but slammed square into a strong chest. Hazel eyes rose and found foggy blue. It happened to fast for Bilbo to do anything. Without even a breath Thorin swung his hard fists into the small Hobits body and threw him back. Bilbo practically flew for a few minutes before his body collided with the first part part of narrow stairs before bouncing, rolling and hitting another. The Hobbit hit every step harder than cruel, breaking bones, splitting skin and at one pint bit off his tongue, not that he really noticed with everything else breaking at the same time. He seemed to fall and tumble forever, it slowing down the further he went. Then he saw them. At the bottom of the flight lay stacks of blades and axes, most likely dropped in a desperate attempt to flee from Smaug. One seemed to be sticking up happily as though it had been placed their waiting for this moment. Time nearly froze for poor Bilbo as he landed, the blade sliding through his neck, keeping his body arched upwards. _

_For a few minutes Thorin watched with a satisfied smirk as Bilbo struggled and drowned in his own blood, before spitting and walking away._

oOoGHOSToOo

Bilbo gasped and sat up, his head hurting and foggy. It was dark where he was, filled with a cold air that also seemed homely. He looked down and gasped. Decorating the ground with swirls and rivers lay blood. Black and dried but recognizable. The Hobbit lifted his eyes slightly and began crawling away till his back hit cold stone. There in front of him lay his own body, mouth and eyes wide open, legs resting in off positions and his body arched upwards with the blade sticking through his neck. For one reason or another Bilbo didn't feel anger or sadness. He simply felt lonely. Here lay his body, far away from where it belonged, resting in cold agony. No one but a crazy king knew of his whereabouts as far as the Hobbit knew. No, He wasn't a Hobbit any longer. He was just an echo, an apparition, a ghost.

Bilbo thought about how the Dwarves would react to his death. Would they be sad? Would they mourn him? A sudden pain hit his heart. Thorin probably told the others about his treachery. They probably knew of his death and where glad about it. Perhaps they would come and laugh on his corps, spit on it, urinate on it. Bilbo didn't want that. He was dead, wasn't that enough? He could still feel the blade in his throat, the space where his tongue once sat. He knew where every broken bone and fracture was. There was no pain but he knew.

Bilbo didn't want anyone near his body, he wouldn't let them near no matter what. All at once the six or so doors that entered the stairs slammed shut and locked. Bilbo knew what was possible for him in his form, he didn't know how he knew, he just knew. Nothing more to it.

He reached down and grabbed a small blade. It was heavy. Nearly twice what it would have been had Bilbo been alive. He threw it as hard as he could towards the wall. The blade disappeared with speed and when it contacted the stone it created a massive crack in the wall. The ghost picked up another small blade. He looked and willed it to go threw him. The blade fell slow at first but sped up to normal quickly.

Bilbo smiled sadly and stood up. He would protect his final resting place but he would watch over the others too. They would be angry at him but they hadn't done anything to him yet. It was Thorin that would need to watch out.

It was with that thought that the ghost glided past one of the locked doors and headed down the corridor beyond.

He wondered for a while, marveling at how far into the mountain he had gone, until he found the balcony. He had expected to see emptiness. An dull plane that neither party wanted to cross however what greeted him was anything but. It was a sea of red and silver that stretched on for miles. Dale was burned black and a camp of white rested not too far from the mountain.

"The war..." Bilbo gasped. He leaped forward and glided towards the camp. He had to know. He needed to make sure... .

Tent after useless tent he searched. Panic beginning to rise in his mind. He tried to convince himself that if they weren't here they where fine but his eyes always strayed to the gory battlefield. Then he heard it.

"Fili! GET YOUR ASS BACK 'ERE!"

The ghost spun around and there they where, the company, standing outside a large red tent. He glided over and smiled. They where here and safe. Some had arms in bandages but otherwise unharmed. Every one was safe! Bilbo sighed, but then he noticed something. Something he didn't know if he should be worried or happy about. Thorin wasn't there. The ghost drifted forward and into the tent. Sure enough, there the all mighty f***er lay, his chest covered in bloody bandages and sweat covering his brow.

With a disgusted grunt, Bilbo noticed Thorins heart slowing.

"Oh no you don't" The ghost snarled, kneeling over the King and placing his hand on his chest.

"Your going to live so I can get my revenge on you, your not escaping so easily after what you've done!"

Bilbo didn't care that every-time he opened his mouth blood would come out. It never his the floor and was a nice contrast between his own white and blue.

Bilbo pressed down, forcing all the energy into the body as he could. The wounds closed and cleared, breathing normalized and the fever died. The ghost giggled, pulling away and marveling at the hand shaped scar that now decorated the Kings clear flesh.

'Interesting...'

An idea hit Bilbo, making him smile. He once again leaned over the Dwarf and, using his pointer finger, wrote a number 10 underneath the hand.

"Where going to play a game, you and me. You have ten red points. You gain points through evil and loose them through kindness. Get two 20 and I will kill you. Get to 0 and I will forgive you. Sound fair?" Bilbo didn't care if the Dwarf couldn't here him. Why would he? For some reason, Bilbo found the whole event rather amusing and began laughing. Louder and lauder till he was floating of the ground.

If anyone had walked in at that moment they would have seen him, a maddened ghost laughing with bloody lips over a cured King.

**Yay done. Yes I know. Another story start...**

**I hope you liked it though!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

**I don't own the hobbit. Sorry its been such a while. I have no excuses apart from laziness. I hope you enjoy though!**

Bilbo was board. So very board. Initially the ghost had intended his game over Thorins life to be more entertaining but the Dwarrow couldn't seem to decide between being lovely and caring or being a moody child eater from an Orcs backside. The king would be so kind and get down to a pleasing 8 before being an absolute horror and bouncing up to 12. The numbers never went any lower or higher and was constantly predictable. Bilbo grew tired of re-writing the number so often and decided to let it change itself based on its own opinion. How it was a mark could have its own right and wrongs, Bilbo didn't spend much time wondering.

The game had began to fall to the back of Bilbo's head, only slightly resurfacing when he would overhear Oin and Thorin taking about his ever changing marks or when Kili would joke about Thorin being cursed. He didn't really care about it any more. Bilbo had decided to occupy a mining tunnel that was still never entered and in a great deal of disrepair. It was perfect for him. Close enough to his body -now a strange dried corps with hollowed eyes and grey, wrinkled skin- and yet also close to a large social area for Bilbo's entertainment.

The ghost had no want to leave the mountain, only truly feeling safe when he was with his corpse -not that he spent a lot of time with it at all, it held to scary a memory, made him feel like crying and vomiting at the same time.

It saddened Bilbo to note that no one talked of him. Not one of his travel companions wondered how their little Hobbit was fairing back home, wondered if he even made it home. They didn't even insult or curse him. He would have understood curses and insults but nothing? That simply hurt. He had put everything on the line to help the Dwarves – He lost his rights to his home, his respect, his friends, his life – and yet they acted as if he had shut the door in their faces back at Bag End and they had simply gone without a 'Burglar'.

Sadness turned to bitterness, bitterness to anger, anger to loneliness and back to sadness. It was a cycle of pain that only eased for a few minutes whenever Bilbo pulled small tricks or pranks.

One such prank had left the upper levels still smelling like strong perfume and covered in glitter. Bilbo remembered her name too, the poor dear. Lassik. A beautiful lady Dworrow who had been selling perfume to the Noble ladies to cheer them up after the long journey. Bilbo had been in a bitter mood and wanted someone to pay. Not dearly, just enough to make him laugh -and so he picked the large perfume tray out of the shocked lady's arms and threw one at her. He, rightly assuming it to be a ghost, ran for her life while Bilbo threw the little purple vials at her back. Bilbo laughed as he remembered her face, was almost tempted to make it vocal when a small whine hit his ears.

Bilbo stood shocked for a few seconds, listening to the noise as it became clearer. No one ever came down into the tunnel. It was too dangerous, to weak.

"Muma!" Cries the soft voice. A child.

Bilbo frowned and followed the voice. No matter how angry or sad or lonely he was, he could never ignore the plea of a child.

"Muma!" He was crying now for Bilbo could see enough of the Dwarfling to know it was a boy.

"Little one, come here" Bilbo cooed, kneeling down and making himself as visible as possible. He was glad to notice the glow alighting the child from Bilbo's body. The child seemed to scared of the passage way to flee from the Ghost.

"What is your name?" Bilbo reached out and grabbed the boys hand as he sniffed and wiped away tears.

"I wonna go Home. Can you take me to Muma?"

"Yes I can, But what is your name?" Bilbo, trying to look as normal as a glowing, transparent, colour- bled ghost could appear, picked up the child and began to walk, never once thinking about the strange image the two made.

"Its Heisen... At your service." Bilbo chuckled at the last words. Dwarowes with their strange manners.

"Well young master Heisen, How came you here? These tunnels are very dangerous you know."

Heisen simply nodded and lifted a small ball Bilbo had failed to notice. "I dropped it and it rolled inside. When I had reached it I was too far gone and got lost."

The sound of shouting began to emerge from the other side of the way, listing the boys spirits some. Bilbo continued on until he could vaguely see a group of figures running around and shouting. Most likely looking for Heisen.

"There you go. Next time, get your Muma to come with you, Ok?" The ghost placed the boy down and smiled as he ran to the exit, yelling a small goodbye back to him. Usually he would have turned around and left but something kept him still.

"Muma!"

"Where have you BEEN! I was so worried! What happened? Are your hurt?" Echoed a shrill voice.

"I went to get my ball and got lost but Mr ghost brought me back!"

"Mr Ghost?"

Bilbo knew to hide when the figure of the child and his mother appeared at the entrance to the tunnel.

"He was right there, Muma! Really pretty! Like a light he was too! I could see right through him I could but he could lift me up! Carried me back!"

The Mother didn't look completely convinced but not dismissive either. That could only mean trouble.

oOoGHOSToOo

Trouble came in the form of a short search party. Hardly anyone came as the path was still too unstable and they left rather shortly afterwards. Pathetic really but it relaxed the adults, now believing Heisen to have lied or hit his head and imagined things. What did shock Bilbo though, was Heisen's constant visits. Once or twice a week he came in, calling for the ghost and talking with him for hours. Bilbo, despite himself, enjoyed his time with the boy. He had forgotten how much he loved company.

The downside to the child was that now the tunnel had attracted unwanted attention. No one else ever entered but it wouldn't be long before someone started getting brave, or as brave as a 16 year old Dwarfling that is, and ventured in.

oOoGHOSToOo

"Hello!"

Bilbo didn't even stop to think that the voice could belong to any other that Heisen. He flew down the corridors and through walls to get to his friend before he got too scared of the dark and left.

"Hello!" Bilbo stopped, now only on corner away from the Dwarf that was most definitely not the young boy.

"Is their a ghost in here?!"

'More than one dwarf then' Bilbo mused. The voices sounded familiar though. Like a distant memory.

"Ghosty!"

"Shhh! It might not like being called that! Dead guy!"

"Quiet, Both of you!"

Thorin, Fili and Kili. Yes. He remembered. It had been so long since he had heard them. Pain shot into his heart. A cold anger that didn't want to be noticed filled his mind as the ghost bit back a cry. It was all well and good to watch from a distance some time ago and to touch them in a controlled fit of liveliness and anger, but now, after being with only one other and his own rotting corps -Bilbo was scared. Not of the princes, no. But Thorin. The ghost subconsciously rubbed his throat and squatted down. Fear and Anger. That was all he felt at that moment.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

**Yay! Another chapter done and up! I hope you like it!**

Bilbo couldn't help it, no matter how hard he tried. The pain was too much, the anger to great, it needed release. Closing his clouded eyes, the ghost let loose to loudest scream his soul could muster. The tunnels shook as dark shadows began slithering towards the three Dwarves at an alarming pace. The land seemed to twist as the scream distorted into a burst of unreadable memories.

Tears fell like rivers from Bilbo's eyes as he let all of his emotion out. His mouth began to stretch and rip, extending down his chest as his arms broke and twisted into long claws. Rocks began to fly around like bullets, all while Thorin, Fili and Kili where struggling with their shadowy bonds.

"Mr ghost. You have to stop now. Mr ghost!"

Bilbo snapped his eyes open and looked down at his friend. The boy looked on the verge of tears as he trembled and paled. Bilbo felt himself calm down, his jaw re-connecting and melding in with the rest of his face as his arms swirled back to normal. Heisen smiled slightly and Bilbo couldn't help but marvel at his Bravery and smiled back. The older Dwarves didn't keep their silence for long though. Kili was the first to recover and began to run over to Bilbo and the dwarfing in order to get a look at the ghosts face. He didn't get very far however, as Fili grabbed his brothers hair to halt him. Bilbo didn't wait to see what happened next though, he ran through the closest wall and glided to his safe but scary place.

Thorin felt a pain in his chest. It wasn't a fleeting feeling any more, merely uncomfortable. He opened his shirt, not caring about the audience his nephews made, and looked at the changing scar number. It had been at 13 not two minutes ago but now a proud 12 was in its place, still red and sore. He must have done something good then. It hadn't taken the king long to figure out that the higher numbers where bad for his health. It had taken him to have had two heart attacks in a few weeks when his number was 18 to figure that out though. He didn't, however, know how to change them to his irritation.

Fili tapped his fingers on his chin for a few seconds before he sighed.

"Lets go get Dwalin, Ori and Bombur, shall we?"

"Why?" Kili asked, Thorin already knew why and so turned and left, glad with his hairs quick thinking.

"The ghost is a threat that we need to nullify. Dwalin is captain of the guard, Ori will know how to kill a ghost and Bombur has the skill needed to do the act."

Kili simply nodded and followed after his uncle, his brother at his side.

Bilbo weaved his hands through his corpses clothes. It wasn't even that any more. Just a fragile, broken skeleton. His leg was shattered into fragments, his arms broken and cracked. His skull has a hole in it and his spine had snapped at its base but remained attached. The blade that had kept him upright had run out of flesh to grip and so let his body go, making him lie in a pathetic heap.

A small bulge in his pocket made the ghost frown. Tentatively reaching forward to open the now fragile fabric, Bilbo's lip quivered when he pulled out the small acorn, still beautiful and strong with luscious colour and life. The ghost – no hobbit- he didn't want to be a ghost any more, bit his lip and shook.

He wanted to go home. For the first time, in how ever long he had been in the mountain for, Bilbo felt trapped and claustrophobic. He longed, not for his books and arm chairs, but for the green hills and simply being with his own kind. He missed Primula- she was going to have a baby when he left, she was so happy. He missed Lobelias cheekiness, he missed the Gamgees who made him family, he missed … he missed the warmth of a true summer, the wind in his hair, He missed seeing butterflies and listening to pointless gossip.

Bilbo didn't have the energy to cry so he lay down, the acorn pressed to his chest and closed his eyes.

oOoGHOSToOo

Bifur held a triumphant smile as he walked next to Ori. As it turned out, the company's bonds where stronger than one would expect, at least between the Dwarves. As soon as Ori, Dwalin and Bombur where called to the royal 3, Dori, Nori, Balin, Bofur and Bifur all followed, regardless of what Thorin said. Of course that only left Oin and Gloin who followed on account of not wanting to be alone. Now all thirteen Dwarves where slowly walking down the haunted passageways, Ori and Bombur leading the way with their knowledge on the subject of Ghosts. According to them, there where only two true ways to destroy a ghost:

1: Was to please their souls, full fill their reason for staying behind. Or

2: Find, break up and burn their bodies before burying the remains is an exactly ten meter deep hole outside.

At that point in time, the dwarves agreed on the easiest and more violent option, but for that, they needed to find its body. The further they went, the creepier the road got. Not creepy as in spiders or funny sounds, but a simple aura of dread or fear that could almost be felt.

"We're here" Ori said, surprising several of his companions as before him lay a brick wall.

"There's nothin' there! Ya must have read th' runes wrong!" Gloin growled. Ori simply opened his hand and shook his head. The runes definitely said here.

"There's supposed to be a massive stairwell their. I'd remember, was a good shortcut to classes" Thorin said, his face thoughtful. He couldn't help but feel like he'd been here since Erebor had fallen but that couldn't have been the case. The king sighed and looked up.

"Lets break it down. The creature must have built it to keep us away." And so the dwarves began to beat the rock away.

oOoGHOSToOo

Bilbo felt a strange tingle in his gut, a sense of dread. He stood and looked up, willing his senses to find the creator of such a feeling. _There! _Bilbo Ran through the wall and down the adjoining tunnel. He ran and ran, closer and closer until her was right where it should have been. Looking down Bilbo saw a small black stone. The ghost recognised the rune immediately from his stalking of the Dwarvin priests that occasionally came to visit. _Ghost Bate._

Bilbo snapped his head back in the direction of his body. His wall was breaking. Someone was trying to get to his body. Bilbo ran back as fast as he could. He was still so far away when his rocky shield broke away and opened his safe place.

**Thank you! I hope you liked this chapter! Till next time! ;)**


	4. Chapter 4

**I don't own the hobbit.**

Everyone. Everyone was there, looking at his bones, and not seeming to register they where his.

'Leave me alone...' Bilbo whispered, causing Bofur to squeak and spin around.

"Just leave me alone. I haven't done anything to YOU!" The ghost picked up a rock and threw it at the wall. The other Dwarves turned around at that.

"BILBO!" Kili smiled, "What are you doing here? We thought you had gone home?!" He smiled.

"Kili..." Dwalin whispered to the prince.

"We where wondering how you were doin'. But... why are you here?"

"Kili!" Dwalin tried again. Kili was either blind, stupid or in denial at what was before them.

"Don't lie to me..." Bilbo bit, clenching his hands.

"Bilbo?" Kili questioned, tears falling from his brown eyes. Denial then.

"Din't lie. Just leave. Please, just leave..."

Balin looked to Ori, who in turn nodded. The old dwarf raised a hammer above Bilbo's bones and made to crush them but was stopped by the ghost himself.

"Please lad! We're tryin' to help ya'!"

Bilbo pushed his old friend away and started laughing.

"Help me? HELP ME!" He giggled, only to fall to his knees and calm. The ghost looked up at his companions and made a sound that was reminiscent of everything cold. Blood began to poor from his slightly open mouth and his throat. Limbs snapped and cracked, opening up and showing off their bones.

"...If you wanted to help, you would have stopped him. Why did you leave me alone? You just turned your backs... . You abandoned me, and then erased me from your thoughts. I thought I was your friend?"

The prices took steps forward only to stop when Gloin placed his hands on their shoulders.

"We never abando-"

"Why did you let me die? AND WHY DID YOU KILL ME? I SAVED YOU AGAIN AND AGAIN! EVEN AFTER YOU KILLED ME I SAVED YOU PATHETIC LIFE, AND ONCE AGAIN YOU ABUSE THAT! I SHOULD TAKE AWAY EVERY OUNCE OF ENERGY I GAVE YOU, THORIN OAKENSHIELD!"

The Dwarves looked to their king with wide eyes. Bilbo was mumbling and crying now, brining tears to the company's eyes. They didn't know. How could they have? And though it was true that they had never asked about their Hobbit, They never expected him to have died.

Thorin fell to his knees as a pain flared in his chest. Blood began to soak his tunic as he struggled for breath.

"You weren't worth it. Not even for the game" Bilbo whispered, and like a gust of wind, the dwarves found themselves in a medical room, Thorin on the floor bleeding. They didn't have time to question, Thorin needed help.

oOoHOBBIToOo

His king was dying. His uncle, and guardian was bleeding out and Kili couldn't do anything, at lest not himself. Heisen looked down and mumbled a small sentence before nodding. The child grabbed the Princes hand and began to walk into the tunnel.

"Mr Ghost!"

He only needed to yell once, for only a second went by before Bilbo appeared, now in a more healed and in tact form. The ghost looked at Kili before making to leave.

"WAIT! Please! Mr Boggins" Bilbo stopped and looked back.

"Baggins"

"What?" Kili gasped, he hadn't expected a reply, hoped but not expected.

"Its Baggins" Bilbo repeated.

Kili smiled slightly before frowning.

"I want you to save uncle."

"No" Bilbo deadpanned.

"Please"

"No" He repeated.

Kili looked down and Heisen pleadingly. The boy walked forwards and grabbed Bilbo's leg.

"Mr ghost. You saved me, remember," Bilbo nodded. "You saved me and took me back to my Muma. Your a good person! Not a bad one, so don't act bad!"

Bilbo growled slightly at this but remained still otherwise.

"He's right! You not a bad person! You never where. The Bilbo I knew would never Kill ANYONE out of revenge" Kili was desperate. He began hyperventilating and speaking quickly. He couldn't lose his Uncle.

"Please. I know he wronged you! He took away your future, I know. And I understand that even considering saving his life is hard, but Please. He's family! He's been a father to me and Fili! I'll do anything! Just please!"

Bilbo took a step forward and clapped his hands. Heisen vanished in a cloud of noise, leaving Kili alone with his old friend- If they where even friends anymore.

"Anything? Are you sure?" Bilbo smirked.

Kili didn't hesitate. "Anything at all! Wouldn't you do anything to save YOUR Father if he was in danger?!"

Bilbo's face blanked and Kili worried he had said the wrong thing.

"Yes, I would have. Anything at all..." Bilbo touched Kili's shoulder and smiled. Not a mad or cold smile, but a safe smile. A smile you gave a child to make all the monsters go away, and like that Bilbo also vanished, leaving Kili in the dark. Luckily, he was close enough to the exit to find his way out.

oOoHOBBIToOo

Thorin was tired. Oin had called for Thranduil, despite his pride, and despite his hatred of all things Dwarf, the elf came. Oin refused when the elf had intended to send an ordinary healer. No, it had to be another King. That way, if Thorin was harmed purposefully, Thranduil couldn't say he had no control over the incident. Of course, the two had started arguing the second they came face to face, but Thorin didn't have the energy to care, he was too focused on his thoughts of Bilbo. He didn't really remember killing the Hobbit, Though that didn't mean he wasn't hurt by his death. He had hoped that his nightmares where only that, nightmares. That Bilbo had really made it home and was forgetting about the harshness of the world away from his books and chairs. He had really hoped, but somewhere in his stomach knew it wasn't true. That's why he never looked. Never asked. Never...

"Thorin" Came a soft whisper.

"Bilbo?" The king mumbled. Thranduil and Oin spun around and starred at their new arrival.

"Bilbo, Leave. Your not welcome here." Oin spat. Dwalin barged into the room, having only been by the door. He didn't waist any time before charging. Bilbo may have been a friend once, but now he was putting the King in danger. He didn't get very far however. Dark shadows wrapped around his frame and held him tight, that didn't mean he didn't struggle. The elf and Dwarf healer where grabbed around their feet and held to the floor.

Bilbo knelt down to Thorin level and placed a hand on the others chest. Thorin reached up and wept tearlessly.

"Im sorry. I am so sorry. I know I will never be forgiving but -" Thorin was interrupted by a finger to his mouth, effectively shushing hum.

"I may never forgive you, but I also may. It will take time, but you'll have to stay alive to know." Thorins chest burned. This was it. He was going to die.

"Never let gold rule you again. Never allow greed or lust, or pain or fear, stubbornness or pride to rule your actions. Ever. I mean it." Bilbo smiled. Thorin felt confusion. The ghost of a once good Hobbit knelt forward, Kissed his kings brow and vanished. Thorin sat up and took in a massive gulp of air. The binds on Dwalin, Oin and Thranduil vanished and the three ran to Thorins side.

oOoHOBBIToOo

The company, plus some, spent months looking for Bilbo when they finally called a in priest. Bilbo was gone, they had said. Moved on or vanished they didn't know, but he was no longer in their realm. The hobbits body was collected and buried in a garden made just for it. The Dwarves had tried to take the remains back to the shire but every time they did, weird things stopped them, so they figured Bilbo didn't want to go, even if he wasn't there anymore anyway. Thorin never forgot his friend and he ruled with fairness and truth, just as he was told, but blood was forever on his hands, blood that he never managed to wipe away until he died at a ripe age of 263, surrounded by his family. His sister, cousins, nephews and their children. He never had children of his own. Never found anyone he loved like that, but he was happy. When Thorin closed his eyes for the final time he was greeted by darkness. The king was not afraid, just calm and lonely.

"Thorin. Are you ready to go?" Came a soft voice.

"Where?"

"Secret."

oOoHOBBIToOo

The two birds looked up at their mother and squeaked. The mother trilled in reply and lay down, covering her chicks with a large wing. The large black chick pecked at the smaller brown one who in turn kicked his brother. They where content, though they knew not why, but that didn't matter. They where safe and warm, and at that moment, that't all that mattered.

**Yay! Im done! Sorry if about the spelling issues, i know there are many. I hope you liked the story!**


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